


Staying Late

by natproms1 (littlethanktosomeoneachday)



Category: TPMP, Touche Pas A Mon Poste ! RPF
Genre: Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-28
Updated: 2015-03-28
Packaged: 2018-04-13 11:23:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,391
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4520040
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/littlethanktosomeoneachday/pseuds/natproms1
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Just admiring my boyfriend." He says with a chuckle.</p><p>"Oh come on, the cameras are off." Camille shakes his head.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Staying Late

**Author's Note:**

> wrote this morning. They're my fav ship from TPMP and I'm focusing on them for the moment while I watch TPMP's episodes. Maybe I'll take another look at Hanouroy but rn, i'm enjoying these two being silly with each other. I don't know much about them beside what I've seen in the episodes, so it may seem OOC.

He's cleaning up his desk, putting away papers and notes. He puts away his laptop as well, looking down into his bag trying to decipher what it is he knows is missing.  
   
Cyril is leaning against the door frame, has been for a couple of mines watching Camille move around his desk.  
   
"Phone charger?" He offers when he can see Camille having trouble finding the one thing he knows is missing.  
   
Camille raises his head at the sound of Cyril's voice, startled. "Yeah. I didn't know you were still there."  
   
"Just admiring my boyfriend." He says with a chuckle.  
   
"Oh come on, the cameras are off." Camille shakes his head. Cyril isn't the one to bring his TV antics to their private life usually. He closes his bag, shoulders it and is about to leave, walking past Cyril when Cyril stops him with a hand to the chest. He frowns looking down at his boss.  
   
"I..." Cyril swallows with some difficulty. He's a little bit nervous, Camille can see that much.  
   
He takes a step back, offering Cyril space to talk. Hands digging into his front jeans pockets, he waits for him to say whatever he has to say.  
   
"All jokes aside," Cyril starts again with a bit more confident voice, but his gaze is still to the ground. "All jokes aside, I don't call just anyone "baby" or "honey"." He looks up to Camille who's nodding, waiting for him to get on with it. He doesn't look annoyed, just... waiting. "I like you." Cyril finally says.  
   
Camille just looks at him. And Cyril's heart breaks in million pieces, his breathe hitches and he feels like he could throw up all his insides.  
   
Camille just nods, nothing else.  
   
"Won't you say something?" Cyril asks finally in a breath, words barely making it out past his lips.  
   
"I... Don't know. I know you like me, I'm your co-worker, we're friends, we hang out." Camille blurts out, fishing his hands out of his pockets to cross his arms against his chest. He's unsettled, confused, he doesn't know how to react. His lips are twitching with a smile trying to get up there but his eyes are dark, focused on Cyril's face, trying to find the thing that'll tell him how to react.  
   
Cyril frowns and surprisingly feels like he could burst out laughing. Which he does, he can't stop himself.  
   
"I'm sorry. This is absurd!" He exclaims, trying to stop himself. "I'm pouring my heart out here and you still think it's a joke!" His laugh dies down in his throat when he sees the look of disbelief on Camille's face. He'd have expected a laugh, another joke, just so his friend could pretend it didn't happen and he'd escape with a pat on Cyril's shoulder.  
   
"You are serious. This is no joke?” Camille asks with a deep frown. How is he supposed to react to someone making a supposed love declaration and then ends up in a laughing fit.  
   
Cyril frowns as well and nods.  
   
"Why are you telling me this?" He's not sure but he'd say Camille looks mad.  
   
"Because I... had to. ... i couldn't keep it to myself any longer. I'm sorry." Cyril says in soft low voice. He's worried, he's losing Camille. If he ever had a chance with him to start with, he definitely blew. But then his wife will be the first to tell anyone and everyone romantic gestures aren't his thing.  
   
"You're married, Cyril." Camille says sternly.  
   
Cyril can only nod, not understanding his friend's reaction. He'd hoped for him to laugh it off or reciprocate his love declaration and kiss the life out of him. He hadn't expected that.  
   
"You are married,” Camille states again. “what do you expect will happen out of this?"  
   
"I... Nothing. Well, I hoped you'd say it back and we'd be kissing now.” He tries to laugh it off but it doesn't even get a smile out of Camille. “But I'm not pressuring you!” He quickly adds. “If you don't like me back, it's okay, I'm not going to fire you, if that's what you're afraid of." The words tumbles out of his mouth and he's lucky they do form real sentences.  
   
"You are married." Camille says again, words losing their meaning as he says them again and again in his head.  
   
"Yes, I know. You've said it three times now."  
   
"I can say it again because you don't seem to understand." Camille is really getting mad at him.  
   
"I am married yes, but our marriage is... We have children but it's an open kind of marriage. As long we're there for the kids and for each others when it matters, we do what we want." Cyril tries to explain but he doesn't even know why, it's leading nowhere.  
   
"Okay..." Camille nods, blood slowly fading away from his face. Hands on the hips, he looks down biting his lips.  
   
Cyril doesn't understand what's going on, but Camille is simply weighting the options.  
   
On one hand, he could have Cyril. He'd still be tied down to his wife. But he'd have him.  
   
On the other hand, he knows Cyril has feelings for him, he finally knows, but he can't do a thing because he's not a home wrecker. He doesn't do married men, even if it's an open marriage.  
   
"Camille." Cyril says loud enough for Camille to raise his head. "I'm sorry I sprung this on you, how about we pretend nothing happened and we go back to normal? I tease you, you pat me on the back and you go back home?" He offers, hoping, nearly crossing fingers Camille is gonna take that option and really be normal again with him.  
   
"I can't go back to normal." Camille says honestly. And Cyril's heart is shattered once more tonight.  
   
The honesty hurts him. His friend could at least try, he's the one getting mad this time.  
   
"I can't, because I'd know what you feel and it would be on my mind 24/7. I can't function like that."  
   
"Is it that disgusting for me to fancy you that you'd think about it like that?" Cyril really is hurt there, one hand is on his chest, the other has balled up into a fist by his side, nails digging into his skin.  
   
"No, no, no!" Camille steps forward, hands going to Cyril's shoulders to reassure him.  
   
He looks down into Cyril's eyes, seeing confusion. "I've had you on my mind ever since I met you. I can't function if I know we both have feelings for each other but can't do a thing." Cyril's eyes widens with every word, lips turning upward slowly. "I like you. Too." Camille says softly. His eyes are smiling as much as his lips but Cyril's gaze can't leave Camille's.  
   
Camille's hands move from Cyril's shoulders to his neck to cradling his face. "I don't do married men." Camille starts with a small smile. "But you'll be the exception to my rule." He finishes with a chuckle. Cyril is beaming and he is pretty sure he is too.  
   
Cyril has a hard time swallowing again, feelings being too hard to process. He looks around for a split second, he can't maintain Camille's look like that and not do a thing. They're damn lucky no one has come around.  
   
But then it's nearing midnight and they both should be long gone.  
   
"Okay." He says when he looks back at Camille. Who nods and lowers his head. Their lips are inches apart.  
   
Breathe mingling, warm on each other's face. Just savoring the moment. But Cyril can't hold on any longer. He tilts his head upward, raising on the tip of his toes to capture Camille's lips.  
   
They're warm, soft, silk like with all the balm he always applies.  
   
His hands come up to Camille's face, stroke his cheeks before passing through his hair and securing his position before deepening the kiss.  
   
Lips part, tongues meet, mouths are explored.  
   
Cyril playfully bites Camille's lower lip, sucking on it to make the pain go away. He lets go of it, leans his forehead against his friend's, breathes out.  
   
He joins their lips once again in a chaste kiss before stepping back down on his heels. Camille's head follows, wanting to continue but Cyril stops him with a hand to his chest. 


End file.
